Help Me Hurt You
by mystic-angel5
Summary: Set during POA: Remus is forced to deal with all of his painful and perplexing feelings concerning Sirius. What happens when the person you hate above all others in the world is also the one you love beyond conceivability? Insanity lives here. RLSB
1. Remus

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own Remus (however much I wish I did) and I do not own the lyrics to the amazing Billy Talent song "River Below"  
  
Author Note: I hope you enjoy this fic, it's my first songfic and first shot at slash. The song included is (if you're too lazy to read disclaimer) "River Below" by Billy Talent. I suggest you go out and buy their cd, or burn it. Just listen to it. It's a great album. Anyways, on with the fic. O, and flames are welcomed. I like laughing at stupid people.  
  
Another note: Song lyrics are in ~*song* form, and italics are in *italic* form.  
  
Help Me Hurt You. ********************************************************8  
  
Remus was sitting at his desk, marking copious amounts of homework. It was monotonous work, and he was incredibly tired, the large brown circles beneath his eyes were a testament to that. Full moon had occurred only two days before. As he shifted through his pile of yet to be marked papers- essays from the third years on the proper habitations of Boggarts- he paused as he came across a sheet with the top left corner marked "Harry Potter." He laid the foot long piece of parchment across his desk and began to read. His red ink which he used for marking up errors and suggestions for later consideration by the students lay abandoned. There was no doubt about it. Harry was excellent at Defence Against The Dark Arts. Much like a group who had called themselves the Marauders had once been... aside from Peter. A small gasp of sorrow nearly escaped through Remus' throat. But he was better then that. He was excellent at shielding his emotions from others, even if he was the only person present.  
  
~*But go work with a mental side on.*  
  
Poor Peter. Killed. James and Lilly. Killed. By who? Well, that was both a simple and devastating question.  
  
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it.*  
  
Sirius.  
  
~*Defaceless masterplan.*  
  
Sirius had killed them. Indirectly for James and Lilly, directly for Peter and twelve by standing muggles. But technicalities such as the directness of murder were not important when it came to a subject such as this. Even to the incredibly logical Remus Lupin. A clot of rage bubbled up in his throat to replace the sorrow. Turncoat. Traitor. Deceiver. Double agent. Liar. There were all too many adjectives to describe what Sirius did. Too many deserving torturous implements Remus could gladly impale him by.  
  
~*Contraption, made of bones, nuts and bolts, creates a, new monster.*  
  
Remus liked this rage. It was a good rage since it was structured, justified. He was allowed to hate Sirius. Even if he had been the best friend he had ever had, even if he had been...  
  
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it.*  
  
Remus shuttered inwardly, and added Harry's perfect score essay to the pile of marked papers. He then stood up from his cramped desk and stretched, with the intention of making a nice cup of tea, then settling into bed with a good book; a surefire way to crash his current train of thought. He stepped in front of his office window, yanking on the curtain to shut out some of the offending moonlight- he was still feeling sick, and the moon didn't seem to care that it's ray's weren't doing anything to help him keep his mind off of his nausea- when he heard a large booming bark.  
  
*"Sirius."*  
  
He thought automatically. But, no, that couldn't be Sirius. Not on school grounds, not now. He gazed across the grounds intently, until he spotted the culprit. Hagrid was heading into the Forbidden Forest with Fang at his heels. Fang barked again. The same loud, booming bark Remus had first mistaken to have been that of Sirius' Animagius form. He was hit swiftly with a tight knot of guilt.  
  
"I should tell Dumbledore." he thought. The same thought he had pondered continuously over for the past few months since he had taken this job. A job he had been offered freely. That was a rare thing, being who he was, what he was.  
  
~*Rejected since day one, my name is, Bastard Son.*  
  
He was putting Dumbledore on a disadvantage, he knew that, but his highly logical mind had offered him many seemingly rational excuses that he had grabbed at eagerly:  
  
"He'll never be able to get past the Dementors, he can't get through Honeydukes, it'd be too hard for him to get the knot on the Willow without being killed, it was Dark Magic that freed him."  
  
But, when he thought of this, the same earnest voice would always pop up from within the back of his mind, a part that he had shunted long ago: "But Sirius wouldn't *do* something like that."  
  
This thought just popped into his head, like it had done many times before, but this time he did not just ignore it as he was accustomed to, but spoke against it to the empty room.  
  
"Yes he would. He has. He's used Dark Magic, and he is a Dark Wizard. He killed them. He did. He was in league with Voldemort. He wouldn't care much about disrupting the sanctity of this school. Nor would he take a second thought on killing Harry. Or me."  
  
He was on the defensive by then, defending himself against no one but his own uneasy subconscious thoughts that were seeping to his conscious surface more rapidly then usual. And they were becoming more persistent.  
  
"He would *never* do that. He would *never* kill Harry. Or you. You *know* he would never harm *you.*"  
  
Surprisingly, a tear was forming in Remus' eye. He was angry with himself. Angry that he was stupid enough to keep on believing that the old Sirius, the *good* Sirius, still existed, and that he had *ever* existed, and that he had had nothing to do with Peter's and the Potter's murders. That he had never hurt Remus more then a million full moon transformations could. That *he still loved him*. That he had *never really hurt him*. That the whole bleeding thing had only been an extravagant misunderstanding.  
  
~*Times up now/ split second/ though it fell/ lonely hearts/ never had nobody.*  
  
The truth was that Remus still loved Sirius in a horrible way. He would kiss him, then strike him, hug him and then kick him. Ruffle his hair and then shove him onto the floor. It was horrible and confusing, and Remus knew it made him a bad person to love someone he hated so much.  
  
~*I'm running from the inferno, they'll think I'm insane.*  
  
What made it worse, was that anyone who could have ever helped him live again was gone. There was no point to anything anymore really. Remus kept existing. He had become accustomed to being an outcast and alone when he was younger, so the Lycanthrope had helped him in one way at least, he was able to function with little to no human contact or conversation.  
  
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it.*  
  
But now, there was a bright spot growing in his life. Harry was here. James and Lilly's boy. He was the spitting image of his father. And instead of making him feel sadly nostalgic, it made him feel proud and hopeful. Harry was salvation, he could tell, which was a very good thing. Harry was a strong, smart boy, and he would go far. Remus had a strong liking for him already, maybe even love, he hadn't had anyone to love for a long time however, so he was a bit unfamiliar with the new sense, but he knew that if he did not already love the boy, he would come to. Remus knew he could never replace James, but, he could try to fill the position of godfather, the one which Sirius had left void.  
  
Dammit. Back to Sirius again. Another bright spot occurred to Remus (he finally tore away from the window and headed up to his bedroom quarters, knowing that running off the "Sirius" subject with tea and a book chaser would do no good) Sirius might die.  
  
This was a grim pleasure to Remus. It made him feel both incredibly saddened and awkwardly relieved and exhilarated. Maybe with Sirius gone in body and not just in presence, Remus could finally move on. There would be closure, so to speak. He sighed deeply, as he changed into his ratty dressing gown. He needed Sirius. He needed to kill Sirius. He needed Sirius' comfort. He needed Sirius' head on a pike. All so confusing.  
  
As Remus stared at the hated, taunting moonlight which was seeping through his window he whispered, "I love you Sirius Black. And I hate you. I need you to help me from sinking. There are many ways you could help me. Tell me you never killed my only friends, or kill yourself- or me even. Anything would be better then this. G-d I hate you."  
  
And with that, Remus blew out his bedside candle and drew his curtains about himself. Ready for an uneasy sleep filled with dreams and nightmares of the man he had hated and loved for the past thirteen years.  
  
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it. Don't make me, cause I'll do it, red blood and then we'll all go Into the river below.*  
  
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Well, go on. Tell me what you think. I would really appreciate your praise/constructive criticism or flames even. 


	2. Sirius

A.N: Well, here is the second chapter. I didn't intend to make this a chapetered fic a first, but I like where this story is going. Well, anyways, on with the fic.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
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Remus didn't hear the creak of his office door opening from downstairs. Nor did he hear the soft tapping of the set of paws which were making their way up the stairs leading to his bed room. He was also oblivious to the slow groan as his chamber door was nuzzled open by a large, shaggy black dog. He had finally succumbed to a restless slumber after much mental turning, and was now sleeping uneasily in a fit of nightmares.  
  
Suddenly, a tall, emaciated man with gangly black hair and deep pitted eyes materialized from where the dog had just been. Sirius.  
  
Sirius walked noiselessly over to Remus' bedside, and sat his tierd body on the floor in front of his sleeping friend. As he sat, he studied Remus' face, as he had done so many nights before. For a while now since his escape, he had been entering Remus' bedroom in the dead of night to watch him sleep. Remus' doors were never locked. This puzzled Sirius. Why would someone who knew that an apparent psycho mass murderer was on the loose leave their door open? Well, maybe Remus wanted to be found by the psycho mass murderer. This didn't seem like too much of a stretch to Sirius, and asides, he tried to keep his deep internal ponderings to a minimum lately. The most dominant thoughts in his head since his escape had been "kill peter kill peter save Harry, see Remus tell Remus see Remus." But, as he looked upon Remus' prematurely lined face, he was hit with a clarity that only the sight of his love could hold over him. Every night he had come to watch Remus sleep he was facing a huge risk of being caught, and every night he visited Remus he would argue with himself whether or not he should wake him up and tell him everything.  
  
So far he had been unable to summon up the courage to do so. Sirius issued an incredibly low, and hardly audible chuckle. Wasn't it funny? He had braved Azkaban for thirteen years, escaped with his body more or less in tact, fought his way across impossible obstacles all the way to Hogwarts, and now, he found it impossible to simply wake his sleeping ex boyfriend and tell him his story. Oh, but how he longed to tell him. He had wanted to for so long. And now, when he was given the perfect opportunity, he wasted it. *Had* wasted it over and over again.  
  
"Sirius."  
  
Sirius jumped slightly on his seat on the floor. Remus was moaning in his sleep. He was moaning *his* name. Was that a good thing? Sirius moved in closer to better see Remus' expression. Was it a happy expression? No. Sirius almost sobbed aloud. Remus' face was set in a perfect mask of pain and confusion.  
  
"Sirius, I love you."  
  
Sirius' heart nearly fluttered. He was certainly hit with the ghost of a feeling he hadn't experienced for ages, far too long ago. He was severely tempted to stroke Remus' face until he awoke, and proclaim that his love for his werewolf hadn't waned one bit, but then:  
  
"Sirius I hate you."  
  
His words were slow, thick with sleep, but they couldn't have been any sharper to Sirius' remainder of heart. He coiled away from the sleeping form of his Remus. No longer his. He steadied himself onto his feet as he was hit with a sudden vertigo. He clutched at the windowsill, moonlight spilling through a small gap in the curtain, softly high lighting Remus' beautiful face.  
  
"Sirius, why?"  
  
Once more, Remus slurred out Sirius' name, turning over onto his side, blocking his face from the sliver of moonlight. O how Sirius whished he could answer Remus' question. Wished he could gain the courage to face the one person he had ever truly loved. The only person who had ever truly loved him back. And now, the person hated him. Well, that was only natural wasn't it? He did supposedly murder their best friends. How could he expect anything less then hate from Remus? But, Remus also said that he loved him. Sirius' vertigo passed, and was replaced with more confusion and thick dismay. Remus loved him, but hated him. After all this time, he still loved him. After all he had allegedly done, he still loved him. But, which emotion was strongest? If Sirius woke Remus, would he open his arms lovingly and invite him to divulge his part of the story? Or would he hex him into oblivion before he said two words? He wasn't ready to take that chance, but he would be soon. He wasn't going to let his soul be carted away before he finished at least one of the two tasks he had come to perform.  
  
But, for now, Sirius disappeared, to be replaced by the shaggy dog. The dog cocked its head thoughtfully at the quilted lump which was Remus, then squeezed it's lanky frame through the ajar door, padded back down the stairs, and through the front office door. The dog was careful to nuzzle the office door closed. That may cause more suspicion then necessary on Remus' part. The dog trotted easily through the vast castle, it's presence unnoticed, even when it passed the Dementors at the front of the castle they sensed no more then an irritating clout of coldness. As the dog made it's way back towards it's temporary home- the Shrieking Shack- it uttered a small, strangled whimper that was carried away by the stiff, early October wind. Anyone who may have heard this little cry would have sworn that the dog was in pain. And they would not be wrong in the least.  
  
Ok, well, there's the second chapter. I know it's short, but I'm hoping that the next will be a bit longer. Please review. I'd love to hear your input. 


	3. I have to tell you

Author note: Ok, FYI, this is set in POA (if you hadn't noticed yet) and this particular chap takes place after the scene in "FLIGHT OF THE FAT LADY", where Harry has a chat with Lupin in his office, having been left behind from the Hogsmede trip that day. So, anyways, on with the chappy, I hope you like it :) ******************************************************************  
  
Help Me Hurt You Chapter 3  
  
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Remus Lupin closed his office door behind Harry, raising his hand in farewell to his receding figure. He sighed. Indeed there was no doubt, Harry was a strong boy. All this time he had assumed Voldemort would conjure the utmost terror in Harry, as it did for so many others, but no. Fear in it's own right was what made him crawl.  
  
"So many responsibilities... pity it is he can't even let loose in Hogsmede today... and on Hallowe'en..." Remus mutterd to the empty room. He glared distastefully at the smoking goblet which had held his Wolfsbane potion.  
  
"I can't even rinse out the after taste with a cup of tea... wait an hour before new consumption..." Remus continued to mutter unhappily as he attempted to grade a pile of 2nd year homework. Finally, he threw his quill down in frustration; the Wolfsbane was turning uncomfortably in his stomach, and began to busy himself around his office, closing shutters and picking up piles of parchment.  
  
His office door creaked open behind him. Remus didn't notice until it banged shut, where he flew around full circle to face it, dropping the armful of books he had been holding to the floor. His jaw gaped open and he swaggered on his feet.  
  
Sirius.  
  
Sirius was standing infront of him.  
  
In his office.  
  
In the flesh.  
  
No dream.  
  
Remus could do nothing more then gawk at Sirius, his eyes wide with shock. Taking in his appearance, he new that he would have had a hard time figuring out that this, thing, was actually Sirius if it had not been for the wanted posters. He was not the man he remembered, fit and full of life. His hair hung in ling, greasy tendrils past his shoulders, his robes, ragged gray rags, torn and crudely mended by small knots of excess fabric in crucial places. His face, not lively and lightly tanned anymore, but sallow and nearly as gray as his robes. But worse, were his eyes; hallow and haunted. Their once deep blue was now overshadowed by a gray mist, making them seem detached and isolated from the natural world.  
  
Remus felt like he could scream for an age if he looked into those dismembered orbs long enough.  
  
"Si-si-sirius." It was hardly a whimper, hardly human speech, but Sirius must have heard this and understood it, for he stepped forward and croaked: "Yes. Me."  
  
Remus noted through a haze of shock that Sirius seemed nervous and helpless, both by his croaked admittance that he was himself... and by his body movements, shifting lightly from side to side. "He's not here to kill me," Remus thought, "if he was, he would have said something more by now." Even through extreme shock Remus' rationality sang clearly. He regained some of his composure by the revelation that his life was not in danger, and was instead being filled with old, familiar rage. The murderer of his best friends was standing in front of him.  
  
"What do you want?" Remus asked, the confidence in his tone much stronger then what he felt.  
  
"I need to talk to you. I've needed to talk to you for a long time." Sirius said slowly.  
  
"No you don't. Murderer. You killed everyone. You bastard. Get out of here. How dare you come here?" Remus was amazed by his own ability to keep his voice steady. It was taking everything to stop from screaming.  
  
Sirius wasn't jilted by this at all. He simply continued on with what must have been a carefully practiced speech. "You have every right to say that. But it's not true. I alone have the truth. I and Peter."  
  
At this, Remus lost his steadiness, "PETER? O YES! PETER HAS THE TRUTH! A WHOLE FINGER FULL! SINCE THAT'S ALL THAT'S LEFT OF HIM! THAT'S ALL YOU LEFT OF HIM! DON'T YOU REMEMBER? PETER IS DEAD! YOU KILLED HIM!"  
  
"No." Sirius said quietly. "No, I didn't."  
  
"YES YOU DID!" Remus felt like crying, he felt deep wells of sorrow billowing up inside him. So familiar was the feeling of rage and sorrow, battling each other within his tired body. But when it came down to it, it was all Sirius. No sorrow, no rage, just Sirius conducting different pains inside him. Well, here was Sirius. The conductor, the cause. The murderer. Wouldn't it be great to simply kill him right then? Beat him until he was nothing but a dead pulp? The conductor would be dead so the pain would be dead. The allure of this simplicity was so great Remus began to follow through with it:  
  
"MURDERER!" he yelled out, as he ran at Sirius, armed only with his fists, and started pummeling him with all the strength he could muster.  
  
This outburst of un-muddled aggression is what it finally took to shock Siirus, though it was only slightly apparent in his cold eyes. He allowed Remus to continue battering him more ten more seconds, before seizing his wrists. Remus immediately began to utilize his feet, kicking at Sirius from every angle. Sirius pushed him up against a wall, leaning his knees into Remus' thighs to stop his wild kicks.  
  
"Let go of me." Remus said through gritted teeth, wriggling his wrists in Sirius' grasp. "Some one will come eventually. And you'll be good as Dementor Dinner."  
  
"Yes, eventually. But today is a Hogsmede trip. That's why I came, I knew no one would be here. I had to tell you. I have to tell you. I'm innocent." There was a note of pleading in Sirius' voice. This made Remus wince. He remembered the days when Sirius could get anything out of Remus using his puppy dog eyes and pleading tone. But this pleading was too unlike that of old Padfoot's to be anything but an alien echo in Remus' head. It made him feel sick and even more enraged.  
  
"I hate you." Remus spat out, not fighting against Sirius' restraints anymore. He knew, somewhere knew, Sirius didn't want to kill him. Wouldn't kill him, unless he had to. This gave Remus an odd feeling of power, edged on by his rage and self disgust, he nearly felt invincible. He could knee Sirius in the crotch and not even think on the fact that the man had killed fifteen innocent people, and was roughly half a foot taller then him and double his strength.  
  
Sirius looked deep into Remus' eyes. Sadness etched in every dash of his iris'. So much like Remus' own. Did he have a haunted look like that as well? Perhaps but that didn't matter because he wasn't like him, he was-  
  
Then, Sirius did the unthinkable and kissed him.  
  
Remus' sense of immortality was dashed away by the first second Sirius' lips touched his own. With it went his strength and his anger, to be replaced by an overwhelming wave of of helplessness. He was letting Sirius kiss him. The man who killed everyone he cared for was violating him. And he was letting him, because he still loved him. Remus burst into tears.  
  
Sirius pulled away as he felt the wetness of Remus' tears hit his sallow skin. He let go of his grip on his wrists and backed away quickly. Remus slid down the stone wall of his office and slid into a silently heaving heap on the floor.  
  
"Get out." Remus choked. "Get out and never come back. I hate you. Get out."  
  
Sirius stared at the quivering Remus. He looked as if he desperately wanted to comfort him, console him, somehow, but thought better of it. He opened his mouth, as if to say something pertinent, or perhaps comforting, when Remus repeated himself, his voice stronger this time. "Get out."  
  
Sirius yanked the door opened and melted into the black dog in mid stride out of the office, leaving Remus to sort out his pain and confusion, quivering in a fetal position, as he bounded through the castle and tore across the grounds, blaming Peter for making this happen to him and Remus, thinking none to rashly and ready to do something drastic...  
  
~*~*~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So, what do you think? Please review... I'll only update if this story isn't considered carp. 


	4. Open damn you!

"Help Me Hurt You" chapter 4   
  
The shaggy black dog burst from the secret passageway of the Whomping Willow and into the Shrieking Shack.  
  
The dog began to howl, an eerie, throaty rumble of pain and anger resonated about the Shack. Slowly, the howl turned into a scratchy scream. No longer did it issue forth from the mangy muzzle of the dog, but through the cracked, chapped lips of Sirius Black.  
  
Still screaming, Sirius began throttling every inanimate object in his path. He smashed a wooden rocking chair against a boarded window, then threw the splintered legs at a battered old grandfather clock. The dusty glass face shattered, and Sirius dragged his bare feet through the shards, unaware of the bloody footprints which now followed him like a shadow.  
  
"IDIOT!" he yelled, loudly enough to roust several roof-roosting owls from their slumber.  
  
"IDIOT!" he practically screeched, as he pounded his frail form against the bed chamber door. It flung open, spewing him onto the creaking floorboards in a sprawled heap.  
  
His screams ceased abruptly. He was back in Azkaban. Back with the Dementors, living through his most horrible nightmares. This is what he had feared, and this is what had haunted him deeply. Remus not believing. Remus hating him.  
  
But how could he not hate him? Wretched human being he was. He really did kill Lilly and James and all those muggles... who cares if Peter uttered the spell in the street, and Voldemort the one in Godric's Hollow? It was still his fault... if he hadn't switched with Peter...  
  
Sirius' body went limp, his haunted eyes misted over and staring blankly at the ceiling. His state was nearly catatonic. Most of him was thankful for this apathy, since he was no longer being forced to deal with Remus in the present time. This was just a nightmare, a simple nightmare the Dementors unleashed upon him night after night after night. The rational part of him, on the contrary, which so often sounded like Remus ever since his school days was telling him that this was real, and that he was stupid to go into a torpor like this, even if it was only for an hour. Sirius was beyond recognition of this voice for the time being however, as his mind was wrapped up in a dirty grey cloth, wringing out any joy which may have escaped it earlier like soiled water. The cloth was no longer the will of the Dementor now that he was free, now it was the tattered hem of Remus' robe.  
  
Several hours later, Sirius was awakened from his internal blankness by a mewl and a soft paw nudging at his nose.  
  
"Cat..." he growled, lifting himself from the floor. The cat retreated slightly to give him room to sit, then pounced into his lap and began to lick at his sweaty face. Sirius growled again and pushed him off roughly, gaining his feet.  
  
"Go back," he ordered the feline. "I have something to do." The cat stared at him malevolently through his amber eyes, seemingly still put out by Sirius' rough hand with him.  
  
"Now." Sirius said, in a tone of utter finality. The cat sensed this, and quickly spun around and sped out of the room, but not before sending Sirius a defiant flick of the tail and a hiss.  
  
Sirius sat on the canopy bed, waiting for the right moment to carry out the task he had come here to perform... the second part. Seeing as he had failed the first.  
  
The bed cover was a moth eaten old thing, not good enough to pull duty as a tramp's shall. But he remembered when it had been new, procured by Dumbledore himself to keep Remus comfortable on the mornings after his transformation. How often had he and the rest of the Marauders lifted up Remus' torn body and placed it beneath the covers near day break before Poppy was due to arrive? They had all known that they were taking a chance by doing so. What would the nurse think when a boy lacking the energy to even lift his eyelids, somehow found the strength to tuck himself into bed comfortably each morning? Before the Marauders had become Animagi, Remus told them that Pomfrey would always levitate him into the bed to give him an energy draught before they returned to the castle. He said that she was always worried sick he may take on fever by lying on the cold floor. Remus had always found that rich. A werewolf being taken ill by severe fever.  
  
Sirius shot up from the bed. It was time. He reached his hand in between the mattress and the floor board and brought forth a 9 inch butcher knife. Compliments of the muggle family which had left it impaled in a gruesome looking Jack 'O Lantern on their front porch. Stupidity thine origin is human.  
  
The black dog trotted slowly and noiselessly across the grounds. All of the students and teachers would be preoccupied with the Hallowe'en feast, a perfect time for him to sneak into the school without being accosted. He rushed past the Dementors and into the castle, who overlooked this small disturbance. Too simple a mind and too drained of joy to provide a satisfactory meal anyways.  
  
The dog's paws clicked softly on the marble floor of the Entrance Hall. He skidded past the Great Hall's open doors quickly as he was assaulted by noises of mirth and endless palaver. Up the thankfully carpeted stairs, and still not a being in site. Through a tapestry he had gone through countless times as a youth. But that was an era ago. And this was now. Again another staircase, dark corridors, candle brackets speckling his fur with dead orange light. Past a broom closet which had been a convenient place to bring a date for a bit of innocent snogging, another staircase, more malevolent orange light. Finally, Sirius emerged in the corridor which would take him to the Gryffindor Common room, if his memory served him right. Which it had.  
  
The forever eternal Fat Lady sat in her frame, munching on chocolate liqueurs, spotting her faded pink dress with brown smudges.  
  
And now, Sirius stood at the end of the hall, watching her. She was exactly the same. She always would be, even after so many things had changed. Blood began to boil in Sirius' thin veins, as he walked towards her slowly. The Fat Lady looked up from the blue foiled liqueur she was attempting to unwrap in her pudgy hands. It dropped along with her jaw.  
  
"B-black!" she managed to accuse thickly through a mouth full of chocolate.  
  
"Hello Fat Lady," Sirius said, with the air of a person greeting an old acquaintance. "Open." he demanded, in a much harsher tone.  
  
The Lady was speechless. She swallowed the half chewed chocolate which was still melting on her tongue and managed to produce an odd, whiny moan mixed with a titter. It sounded a bit like an indignant budgey with a stomach ach.  
  
Sirius took a step closer, and brought up his knife to eye level. "Now."  
  
The Lady seemed to have found her voice and her Gryffindor courage. She lifted her chin into the air and fixed her hands onto her hips. "No. No Black, I would much prefer to see you detained then trying to kill out resident students."  
  
There was almost an audible click in the air as Sirius' last thread of rationality snapped. His blood boiled and turned, his eyes misted over as he began to see red. "I'M NOT THE THREAT!" is what he wanted to yell at her, to get through her thick head, "IT'S NOT ME! IT'S PETTIGREW AND HE'S IN THERE RIGHT NOW! I CAN KILL HIM NOW! THE BASTARD WHO WAS MY FRIEND! THE BASTARD WHO MURDERED ALL OF MY FRIENDS!"  
  
Instead, he could only articulate a large amount of screeching and intelligible words as he lifted the knife higher and began to slash at the Fat Lady's portrait.  
  
The Lady screamed, and fled crying wildly from the mad man with the horrible look in his eyes.  
  
Sirius continued to slash at the portrait long after he realized the Lady had left, only when he saw blood splattering his robes and tainting bits of the canvas did he stop his insane retribution against the innocent painting. Sirius looked at his hand, it was bleeding alright. He had been stabbing so furiously that he hadn't realized when the blade had slipped, lacerating his palm. His eyes cleared of mist, and he moaned softly. Stupid was this tenuous attempt at getting Peter. He realized it now, and now it was too late and all the castle would be alerted and he would just look even worse for the wear. He tucked the knife back into the tattered pocket of his robe slowly as if in a daze, then transformed back into the great black dog as he ran madly though the halls.  
  
"Get out," was all he could think, "now now now now. Before they get you, before they learn, before you can kill Peter and tell Remus and save Harry. O but you have to do all that then let them kill you, let them take away all the hurt, but only after you finish what you started, don't be selfish now, live in the pain and let it make you stronger, like James and Lily were, and Harry and Remus are."  
  
Outside. The dog was outside. And wasn't it great to be in the moonlight? O yes yes it was. It was great, grand. Remember the stag and the rat (bastard) and the wolf that would run with you? O yes, yes you do and it was just as grand as this.  
  
Once more, Sirius burst into the shack. But this time, no tirade over furniture was carried out, instead, Sirius burst into laughter. And he laughed for a long, long time. Hard and deep, hysterical and genuine all mingled together with his madness and insanity. Finally at this moment, Sirius Black finally met the reputation which had heralded him for so many years; he was insane, and he hadn't felt better in an age.  
  
A/N: Wow, so, I can't belive you read this... and I can't believe it's taken me so long to get out another chapter,,, sorry bout that, but I promise to spit out some more in better time if you review. Otherwise, I'll think it's crud and leave it at this... and I really don't want to... poor Siri... 


	5. He smiles

A/N: Here is chapter five. This fic is growing beyond my control... what was first meant to be a one shot song fic has turned into my longest chaptered fic yet! Oy! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
  
Help Me Hurt You  
  
Chapter 5   
  
Remus smiled.  
  
He laughed at Flitiwick's jokes. He conversed with Madam Pomfrey. He thanked Snape for the Wolfsbane. He was jovial with Sir Nicholas. He set up next week's lesson plan. He chatted with Hagrid. He tidied up his office.  
  
But most importantly he smiled.  
  
After Sirius had left him sobbing on the floor, he had gathered himself up and attempted to climb the stairs to his bed chamber. He found out the hard way that his legs had turned to sacks of loose sand after having them collapse beneath him, letting him plummet back down onto the landing with a large thud.  
  
With a bruised back and a wounded heart beyond repair, he had curled up into fetal position like an infant and sobbed harder than he had since his first full moon transformation.  
  
After his tears were spent and his eyes were sore and his throat was raw, he lay on the floor, still huddled like a scared child. Finally, he raised his shaky body, feeling angered by his display of weakness and disgusted by what had initiated it.  
  
He felt dirty.  
  
Now able to control his limbs more confidently, he embarked on his journey up the stairs and into his washroom. He disrobed and stepped into the basin, turning on the taps and immersing himself in the purifying liquid. He leaned his head against the shower wall, the cool tiles soothing his tear-hot face. As the water ran over him, the dirt began to recede to be replaced by a numb feeling Remus welcomed wholly.  
  
He turned off the faucets, and stepped out of the shower, absently toweling himself dry as his mind wandered about in a forest of comforting darkness.  
  
He dressed, stepping in front of the mirror to make sure that his sobs were not apparent on his face. There was no tell-tale redness or puffiness, but his expression could do with some work. He looked like a man who would never smile again, a man who had seen horrors beyond comprehension. His eyes were haunted. He looked like Sirius. Remus shuddered, glaring at his reflection.  
  
"Fuck off." he said hoarsely to his reflection in a voice which didn't sound like his own at all.  
  
Slowly, a disturbing grin crossed over his light features. The numbness increasing deliciously, he slowly forced the grin into a winning, natural smile. He was used to smiling when it was the last thing he wanted to do, and here was that useful talent coming to the rescue.  
  
And so Remus headed down towards the Halloween feast, smiling and anesthetized.  
  
O yes, Remus could smile. Even as he was decaying from the corners of his mouth down, he could smile.  
  
After the Halloween feast, Remus desired nothing more than to drop into bed and wait for exhaustion to take him. He was still held gently in the arms of deadness, but he could feel it slowly slipping. He was almost certain that as soon as the thick blanket of numbness was stripped from him that he would have to scream, and he definitely didn't want to lose his composure and sanity in front of all these people.  
  
Remus made his way deftly towards his office, weaving between the mulling students and hawk eyed professors. Hardly realizing how he had come to this point, he was standing in front of his office door. He opened it slowly, coming out of his daze slightly as the darkness of his office enveloped him. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him. His smile still remained on his face, now vaguely reminiscent of a grimace as he climbed his stairs blindly, aided only by a sliver of malevolent moonlight shining through a tiny break in his curtains. Now inside his bedroom, the grin faded at once, his eyes returned to their haunted, hollow look and his face transformed into a sorrowful mask. He sat stiffly at the edge of his bed, and stared hopelessly into the palms of his hands.  
  
"O, G-d." he croaked softly. Everything was feeling much too real now, too vibrant and bright in the darkness of the room. The dull cry-ache behind his eyes throbbed, and a flare of pain shot up his back. A loud bang emanated from somewhere, but so sharp were his senses now that he assumed it was probably just a window shutting. The bang came again. And again. And again. The rhythm of it was fast and feverish. Finally, Remus' weary mind registered the sound and placed it for what it was: his office door. For a moment longer he stared at his hands, contemplating what good it would do to simply place them over his ears and hum until the caller went away. Had the knocking not been so vehement he would have ignored it entirely. Instead, he headed down his stairs and opened the door slowly.  
  
Proffesor Flitwick stood in front of him, well, 4 feet below him, looking horribly shocked and nervous, wringing his hat between his fingers.  
  
"Yes?" Remus asked gruffly  
  
Flitwick hardly seemed put off by Remus' odd tone, instead, he plunged into what he had obviously thought was pertinent enough to disturb Remus in his office after the feast.  
  
"Remus, thank Godric you're here!" he squeked, "There's huge trouble, all the teachers are needed in the Great Hall. We have to search the castle."  
  
"What? What's happened?" Remus asked, his curiosity peaking from his shroud of apathy.  
  
"Black!" Flitwick practically squeled, "Sirius Black is in the castle! He tried to get into Gryffindor Tower, he slashed up the Fat Lady's portrait. She's in a bad way." He finished sadly.  
  
Remus was surprised that his knees hadn't buckled beneath him. If he hadn't been leaning on the door jam he was sure he would have. In one graceful wave he was once more overcome with a sheet of numbness as everything around him became tainted with surrealism.  
  
"O no, I'll be there soon. Terrible, horrible." he heard himself say to Flitwick. Flitwick seemed to be satisfied with that and hurried off down the hall.  
  
Remus shut the door, and took a step back inside. He caught site of himself in the mirror at the back of the door which had been set there when he had arrived in the office. He had never seen any reason to remove it, although now he wished he had as soon as he had moved to Hogwarts.  
  
Again, he could see Sirius in his face.  
  
"Fuck you," he repeated his reflection. His grin returned. It was the grin of a man who was unstable enough to chop off his left hand. Remus let the grin recede, but he couldn't help the smile which crept across his face. He knew it would be suspicious, but for the moment he didn't care all that much.  
  
So Remus opened his office door and trod down the corridors to meet with the other Proffesors.  
  
And he smiled.  
  
A/N: Wow! I'm sooo proud right now! I wrote 2 chaps to this in 2 days! Usually I'm a snail when it comes to updating... lol.. err.. sorry bout that. More chaps to come, if you'd like.... Annnnd if you'd review... hums a Bowie tune 


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